


Snippets, Portraits, and Tales

by Raspberries_and_a_Belle



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hetalia snippets and shorts, I Tried, M/M, Multi, Some Historical additions as well, Some Romance, Some Seriousness, The World is a Play and the Nations are her Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:03:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raspberries_and_a_Belle/pseuds/Raspberries_and_a_Belle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The World is a giant storybook with a large cast and even fanciful tales, these are just a few of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hello Can Change Your World

He remembered when he first saw her.

It was just for a brief moment, when he was invited to a celebration of Berwald's victory sometime in the 1640's and invasion of several Holy Roman States. They were on opposing sides at this point, but he knew that Berwald wanted to overlord it over Mathias and Haakon who opted to not attend. She was dressed very prettily, her hair in two braids on the side of her hair, dressed in the fashion of time, according to Swedish standards, in white and blue.

Arthur Kirkland, and his interruption of his starring at the young woman caught him off guard; he pretended to be unbothered by it and hide his wandering eye. 

He spoke quickly and left the presence of the British man.

He would later come to learn her name, Lilli. He thought it was beautiful but after that party, he never saw her again but kept the image of her in his mind. Close to Three Hundred and Twenty years later, in 1970, he finally saw her again. Her hair was still in braids but she dressed in simpler dresses tied to her Germanic roots. Joining the European Free Trade Association was a wise move; it brought him closer to his own "Brothers" of Berwald, Tino, Mathias and Haakon.

Seeing his opportunity, he walked over to her and gave a polite smile. 

" _Kveðjur. I am Iceland, Emil_ "

He would never admit it but he felt his heart patter like the winds within his country during the winters when she turned and gave him a bright smile, it lightening up to her eyes.

" _Grüße. I am Liechtenstein, Lilli_ "


	2. The Dinner From Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gender-switching in this chapter, as well as a Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A one shot based upon a dinner that actually happened, but I switched to involve a genderbend of Prussia and America. 
> 
> For Reference... Femerica - Abigail || Fem Prussia - Maria ||

The ambiance in the room had dropped at least several degrees than earlier. Abigail was grateful that she was able to talk her boyfriend's brother out of going to a restaurant for dinner. She had a feeling that it would not wind up as pleasant as everyone wanted.

Romano was glaring evilly at Ludwig who in turn was shaking his head at Maria. 

Maria was currently stroking Matthew's leg and complimenting on the sausages that were cooked by Francis, Feliciano, and Abigail. 

Arthur looked like he was about to smash one of the very nice bottles of wine that Francis had brought with them. 

Abigail was in the process of trying to get Ludwig to talk about the new model of weaponry their special forces were training with at the moment, in a joint training mission.

_"These sausages suck, you know? German's don't have good meat you know... it is all fucking crap_ "

" _That is not what your brother thinks... Hey.. Feli, what do you think of Ludwig's sausage?_ "

" _Maria?...Oh, it is very nice, decent size too... would like another cup of wine?_ "

" _Oh my god, not at the fucking dinner table! I get it enough from the ass next to me!_ "

" _You told me you loved my ass last night, and Non, an English sausage is much thicker_ "

" _I don't know, I think a Canadian's might be better in the long run, it is longer than most people believe_ "

Abigail looked mortified at the way the conversation was going and immediately started downing the wine. Ludwig was still processing the first comment and started choking on the sausage that started it all, which sent everyone into a frenzy. All she wanted was the night to be over... and to sleep off the night.

* **Three hours later** *

Abigail was breathing heavily, enjoying the soft touches after a two hour sexathon that were ghosting on her sensitive skin. Romano was truly adept at turning her on and making her scream, he especially enjoyed it when she broke his headboard.

" _You know what...I think an Italian Sausage is the best, because it is practically perfect in every way_ "

" _That is fucking corny, even for you... and I must say breast of American is too such a sweet treat_ "

If that ended with Abigail elbowing Romano in the ribs for that comment jokingly and Romano continuing using food as an innuendo; that was between them.


	3. A Dane, A Dutch, and an American

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendships are a Strange Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mathias is Denmark and Lars is Netherlands for the purpose of this Story

No one, other than the three men, were really sure of how their friendship came to be.

Alfred and Mathias had known each other since 1792, when Mathias and his King had officially recognized their independence (although their friendship started in the 1780's with Trade, and an introduction to Danish Mead). And ever since then, there has been an unbroken alliance between the two men. It served them well in the annual paintball war games. If anyone ever saw them, they would definitely state they had a bromance with each other.

Alfred and Lars have a deeper connection. Alfred remembers seeing the taller Dutchman and his people explore his lands. He even remembers his first taste of food from the continent, and the bond he created with Lars. They have been friends since 1624 and Lars was one of the few to first see the potential in Alfred and helped to nurture him into a powerhouse that he would become. The bonds were tied inextricably to each other, and only got stronger.

Lars and Mathias's friendship is complicated and simple at the same time. Their friendship went father back, to when they were young nations. They fought each other, fought together, traded for years, and faced an insane dictator, created extensive agreements to cultivate a friendship. Lars and Mathias had a healthy respect for one man, Germania (after one encounter when they awkwardly met him again and refuse to speak about it; somethings are not meant to be spoken about. 

It was only natural that the three would somehow come to create a friendship of sorts over the years.  
Although no one expected the extent of the friendship until one pivotal moment.  
A frantic phone call to a Dutchman from a Canadian exposed it.

~~~~

Matthew loved his brother, he really really did. Even when he did the most stupid things sometimes; for example daring the kid to kick old lady O'Leary's cow and never refilling the syrup when he visited. Or when he invited Vash and Ludwig over to the Rockies to do some old fashion hunting and camping for three weeks (the fact that Vash had returned with the creepiest smile for over a week made people nervous). This topped the cake though, the party at the house before the UN'S General assembly had gone over pretty well.

It was a traditional for Alfred to host a party of sorts in New York before the meeting actually.

This had to be the most stupidest thing ever, or most mortifying (depending on who you ask) and would FOREVER be etched into his mind. "Oh God… oh God… turn it off, please please no no no!" he said to himself and ran to knock on Francis's door, urging him to open up in French, whit mutterings about Alfred, men, and whimpering. This lead to a domino affect, of Francis notifying Arthur, whose loud voice garnered the attention of Gilbert and Ludwig. Soon those staying over were under the belief that Alfred was drugged up somewhere in the house and getting soused.

' _Lars…pick up the phone, pick up the phone…_ " Matthew said rapidly in French, and waited with baited breathe for a response. (Arthur and Francis were waiting like nervous parents who some how rounded up the others and were congregating in Matthew's bedroom )

" _If you have this number… than you know who I am. I am being productive at the moment and cannot answer my phone. Leave a message and I shall debate getting back to you at my leisure, unless you are Antonio than you can fuck off_ " came the roughly accented voice from the phone. And this set off another round of panic because it appeared that Matthew's ramblings had a bit of truth. What really topped the cake was hearing a distinct and loud moan echo through the house, accompanied by the snap of a wooden headboard and grunting of two rough voices.

" _That is the fifth headboard we broke this month_ "

" _I am sorry, sometimes… when I get excited… I forget my own strength_ "

" _Don't apologize, that headboard was atrocious and good riddance_ "

The noises and sounds stopped when the three men stepped down the stairs from a room on the floor above them. The smattering sounds of English, Dutch, and Danish got louder, as did the footsteps from the stairs. The three men were staring at the group in front of them, confused as why one was sputtering and looked like he was about to explode, one looked far to proud and almost sniffling in happiness, the one in glasses just wanted the night to be over, while the other four were just too surprised and were silent.

" _What?" Alfred asked and draped both of his arms around the two taller men's waist, while the other two were bickering back and forth. "Something the matter?_ "

" _YOU BUGGER!_ "

" _OH MON BEBE, YOU TAKE AFTER YOUR PAPA!_ "

" _Nice piece of ass you their Larsy boy!_ "

" _Vee, how long have you been together?_ "

" _How in the hell did you three meet?_ "

" _WHY DID I NOT KNOW THIS?_ "

Voices were mixing in with each other, as curses were flying and threats as well.  
Although hearing Francis and Arthur bicker about who was the better parent was tiring, it gave entertainment.  
Lars whistled loudly while Mathias screamed for everyone to shut up.  
Alfred was blushing horribly like a virgin and confused at the scene in front of him.

" _I am going to forget this ever happened. You need to learn phone etiquette, and you two… I hope you know what you are getting into_ " Matthew said tiredly and went back to his room; for a good shower and a cry. Arthur viciously gave the "I am watching you" symbol to the two men while dragging Francis back with him. Francis was over come with emotion to do anything else.

" _We were only rough housing! I swear… I wanted to show them my new moves I learned when I visited Lejune and Quantico!_ " Alfred said making sure that everyone could hear him, and ignoring the fact that Lars's hands were softly stroking the ends of his hair on the back of his neck. Also trying to ignore Mathias's action of dragging his nails along the spine on his back. Both men were well aware that Alfred's hands were dangling low on their hips, rubbing soft circles along their bones.

" _Moves indeed, I can't believe you called Matthew… you are a little vixen aren't you?_ " Lars whispered, tugging the two back to a different room down another hallway.

" _He cock-blocked me when we were all in Brussels. I had to get him back_ " Alfred said pouting his lips while Mathias rolled his eyes, grabbing a few bottles and a blue box.

" _The night is young, and we are not debauched yet… chop chop_ " he said in Danish tenderly but a very seductive smile on his face.

 

It was a very happy household in the end that night.


	4. Oh, My Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saddest Part of an Alfred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone writes Alfred has having fifty children, or pseudo-children, ie: the states. This is a more interesting twist on that. Enjoy!
> 
> I own nothing, absolutely nothing mentioned in this story

Alfred has a hidden room within his small estate on the outskirts of Washington DC. The first floor parlor room has a bookshelf that opens with the pull of a tattered book, exposing a narrow staircase leading to a private office with various paintings showcasing a different person and a few time periods.

No one really knew about the room, with the exception of six other people. Alfred F. Jones kept it private for a reason. He came there when everything became so loud and the need for escape grew. Too much arguing, having to explain the decisions the President made, keep up trade, peace, and humanitarian agreements, and to force down the memories when the walls were breaking down inside his head.

It was definitely one of those nights, Earlier; Arthur had said something about colonies and some unkind words. Everyone blamed it on Francis for not fucking Arthur before a meeting and letting him a few gin and tonics during the meeting. In a twist of surprise to everyone else, Lars literally stomped over to Arthur and shoved him on his ass, ranting to drop the subject or else. Alfred would forever be grateful for the little interference. Arthur did apologize privately after the meeting and he accepted it but would be giving Arthur a cold shoulder for a while.

Alfred had flown back to the States after the meeting, claiming that he was needed in the Capital. Mathias drove him to the airport, and Matthew agreed to relay any and all information.

Once he arrived stateside, he made his way to his home and bunkered himself in the private room, losing himself to the paintings and the memories.

He was the eldest of them all, the survivor. 

He remembered the birth of the colonies, New France, New Spain, New Sweden, New Netherlands, and Roanoke. Each of them had a portrait, he hand painted them during his isolation as a British colony, a mere teenager of sorts. Each one had faded before reaching the age of ten, each of them looking like a child version of their parent colony. France and Roanoke were little girls while the rest were boys. 

Years later, he felt his body change and he accepted the colonies, all thirteen of them.

He claimed them as his siblings, but knew deep down that they were his children in a sense.

He remembers watching Delaware, Pennsylvania, the twins New York and New Jersey, Connecticut, South Carolina, and Massachusetts all rough house with each other. While Georgia, North Carolina, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, and Virginia showed off their skill in stitching and horse riding. Alfred still has the scars on his body from when they faded away, after each signed the Declaration declaring their Independence from Arthur and that damned King.

Once again, the moment each colony signed the paper, he began their portraits. Seventeen hand painted portraits lined the wall, each with a sad smile on their faces while their eyes held utter happiness. Alfred prayed every night that he wouldn't have to go through it again, it broke him to pieces when he grew to love them and than watch them fade away. He felt his hands clench, his nails pressing into his palm as he remembered them.

And those feelings grew more intense when his government and President, and his people in fought wars, gaining territory after territory after territory. He watched them develop into their individual states, and took snapshots of them to create more hand portraits. Every single state had a portrait, he painted when he gained a new scar on his body. Alfred needed to remember each and every face, everything; he had to make sure he remembered to do his best as their brother, their father, their representation.

The United States of America was made up of fifty states; each of them left their mark on the state, and him. 

For Alfred, it was fifty scars and five birthmarks, and for his citizens, the history of their states. Smiling, he looked at each one and slowly stepped away, closing his eyes and headed over to his desk. His glass was chilled, with two ice cubes tossed into a jack and coke. Papers were calling his name, emails to be answered, and some music to be listened too.

He had a job to do.


	5. Fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smutty Devotion

" _όμορφο_ "

She felt them crawl up her leg, resting on the curve of her knee and giving it a teasing stoke. She loved his fingers, so coarse, so rough, years and years of hardships, battles won, battles lost; independence and the flow of history were etched for her to feel and see on her own body, her history miniscule in comparison. 

Those fingers were now moving, ghosting across the thighs in a zigzag motion, the sensation almost painful. Laughing was heard quite easily over the sounds of tiny pants and breathless moans that he loved, worshiped and adored, he told her that many times in sex and in life.

One hand possessively splashed against her stomach and left hip that pinned her to the floor, to keep her from writhing and arching on instinct. 

It was torture, pure torture, hearing his voice whisper sweet and dirty little nothings into her ear in the language of his birth country, it was even more torturous to feel those rough and calloused fingers roughly strike her inner lips and than massage them, always keeping a fast pace.

" _Ορυχείο. Όλο το ορυχείο_ " she heard him whisper into ear, letting his non-occupied fingers curve up her naked body, tweaking and pulling at her nipples tightly. She felt the pads of thumb grace it with a rub and moaned deeply, feeling him curve his finger in her in clitoris and nudge her g-spot repeatedly. 

Her pleasuring screams were now overpowering his laughter and grunts, She had kept a rhythm in her head and repeated it before breaking down and unable to keep a proper train of thought "stroke, in, out in out, press, curl fingers in, pull out, stroke, and fucking repeat"

" _ανήκετε σε με, όλοι σας_ " he growled out, purring and nuzzling her neck, nipping and biting along the way. She felt him pinch and stroke and pull and knead her nipples, rolling the breasts around when alternating. 

The double stimulation had brought her to a harder orgasm and she wanted to feel it, feel everything from his fingers. In desperation and between moans and purrs, she begged him to bring her there and set her free.

She felt an absence of touch from her breasts and groaned at the loss but whimpered as he placed both hands on her lower extremities and used both hands as place holders and inserted both index and middle fingers, stimulating her clitoris hurriedly and using her thumbs to massage and stroke the outer walls. 

She screamed and in complete bliss rode out her orgasm and felt her entire body turn to jelly. She felt sore, as he pulled his fingers out and brought her to his chest, using those same fingers and hands to cuddle her.

" _Fingers, are now my new favorite_ " she murmured to herself and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations (Hopefully I got it near what it should be?)  
> -Beautiful  
> -Mine, All Mine  
> -You Belong To Me, All of You


	6. One Night in Amsterdam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title says it all really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fem!America - Amelia & Netherlands - Lars for reference

Amelia F. Jones was thrown for a bit of a loop at how she even got herself a date this evening, all she knew is that he came up to her and bowed a bit for talking to her, and asking her if she would accompany him for a night on the town. Normally, he only says a few words, accented and rough, but she loved hearing him speak and quickly she replied with a resounding yes. Then he actually kissed her hand, whispering to her that he'd pick her up in the Lobby the conference was being held in, around seven in the evening.

Four hours later, Amelia was standing in the lobby, dressed in a very tight, black, a-line dress with a pair of silver heels and matching clutch. Her hair was styled in one of her favorite period styles, a 50's lounge singer with a tight up do and curls framing her face. It wasn't long before she found him standing in front of her and extending an arm to escort her.

"Zo lief, Amelia... shall we?"

The broadly tall and distinguished Dutchmen asked, as Amelia felt herself being led outside and into a taxi, with him giving directions to one of the most expensive restaurants. With an eyebrow raised, she couldn't wait to see where the rest of the night was going to take her, with Lars. And she was not disappointed, a delicious meal consisting of steak and seafood with a raspberry cheesecake and a vintage bottle of wine (1939). From there Lars whisked Amelia to a very old building, walking down an alley to a solid looking door and was introduced into an old style nightclub.

"I had heard that you enjoyed a certain style of dancing, but I couldn't find any. Will this make do?"

Lars asked Amelia, who was taken by how very noir it looked but was playing modern music and decorated with black light and paint. This led to close contact dancing and laughing, feeling his hands roaming down her side to rest on her hips. Almost guiding her to move as one with him, or at least till she spun to face him and decided to take control of the dancing.

"Shall we call it a night, or how about one more round of adventure?"

Lars asked her, his accent unraveling her idea of dancing till the night ended, with her eagerly moving to kiss the corner of his lips; responding in a correct manner. From that point on, Lars had quickly moved to usher them outside and to find a taxi while Amelia just held on to his hand tightly and let herself followed the heady madness. She wanted the date to end on a very high note indeed. What felt like an hour, only took twenty minutes to find a taxi and reach his apartment in the city. (Mentally giving herself a note, to check out Amsterdam later on)

Without speaking, she removed her shoes and laid her purse on the sofa, watching him undress his shirt and jacket, carelessly throwing them over the sofa, leaving his shoes and socks by the door. Using her finger to beckon him, make him follow her, she swayed her hips and made it into the bedroom where, she felt the door close and him standing behind her.

"I think... I am going to enjoy this," he said completely in Dutch, although she understood him as if he spoke English.

Amelia could feel herself getting a bit hotter as his hands roamed along her body, the fingertips trailing her legs to the back of her neck to undo the zipper. A naughty though flew into her head and she bent her body, wiggling against him sinfully, knowing that he was sporting something much better than before as he let the dress drop from her body. Tilting her head, she watched him rub against her behind and bit back a moan.

It was at that point, that she raised herself up on to the bed and smiled, bringing her lips closer to neck, trailing kisses until she reached his lips and took control, the speed of her movement. Amelia knew that Lars was enjoying it, the hard on he was sporting was proof, and the sounds he made, as her hand made it down to undo his pants, unbuckling and pulling them off. She was not expecting him as a commando man, but after she felt him fight for control and pressed her into the bed, switching the domination. The sound of the moan she released, made Lars's cock twitch horrible and rut against the lacy fabric of her panties. And as soon as she spread her legs slightly on the bed, he removed them faster than anything else that evening.

Pushing herself up further on the bed, allowed her to wrap the arms around his neck and passionately make out with him, while his hands were exploring the upper part of her body. Tweaking, tugging, pulling, pinching, and rolling the sensitive little nubs of her flushed chest, knowing that the sounds Amelia made were vibrating against his lips. And that the very large and thick member of his body and was pressing and rubbing, on a soft and warm heat. It was there that she pulled away and whispered to him, giving him permission.

Amelia kissed the man quickly, and withdrew to catch a breath, as she felt him move inside, stretching her out and filling her completely and quickly. It was a change, and with each thrust and each movement, and as much as he enjoyed it, she enjoyed it more. Dragging her nails along his back, trailing his spine, she felt him move quicker, as with one quick thrust, she felt the head press against her clit, in four quick movements, bringing her to orgasm. And a purr of satisfaction fell from her lips, while he grunted and growled such things in her ear, that she knew he was getting close.

"Fuck me, we have all night to take it slow... fuck me"

Amelia said firmly in Dutch, with all the seductiveness she could muster in her body, as she felt him press her much deeper in the bed. Bringing her hands above her head, he kept her there and allowed for him to lower his mouth to suckle quickly each nipple before giving himself to his release, pressing deep inside her, and growled, peppering kisses along the top of her chest. His spiky blonde hair was now lounging around his face, she knew that her hair was mussed and was partially hovering the pillow. The scent of sex was filling the room, and she felt him twitch once or twice, and thanked the creator that male nations had a short refractory period.

"Round two?"

"Of course, Amelia, of course"

Amelia asked Lars, who could only give her a wicked smile and leaned in for a kiss

**Author's Note:**

> *From 1618-1648, the continent of Europe was embroiled in a state of war called the "Thirty Years War" and is considered one of the destructive wars on the continent. Sweden did invade Liechtenstein in 1647, right before the the signing of the Treasties of Osnabrück and Münster, also referred to as the Peace of Westphalia in the history books. I played a bit with the idea that Iceland would be invited but considering that The Denmark-Norway Union was once on the side of Sweden for the first half of the Thirty Years War, it would have been interesting and served as a plot device.
> 
> *In the 1960's, the EFTA [European Free Trade Association] was founded as an alternative to the EEC [currently the European Union]. With Liechtenstein's interests being represented by Switzerland but it joined independently in 1991. Iceland joined the EFTA in 1970. So yes, the two would have been there and potentially meet.
> 
> Mathias – Denmark & Haakon – Norway. Names used for my purposes.
> 
> Kveðjur & Grüße are Greetings in Icelandic and German.


End file.
